“Coward.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Pervert.”
Then she turned and left the bathroom before I could continue enjoying myself at her expense.
By the time I came back into the main room dressed, towel-drying the last dampness from my hair, she was by the window with her coffee in hand, looking thoughtful enough that I knew if I hesitated, I would talk myself out of it.
So I didn’t.
“Come home with me,” I said.
She turned. “What?”
I set the towel aside. “Before we go to your sister’s surgery. Come to Chicago with me first. Just for a day or two.”
I saw her hesitation immediately. Of course I did.
So I gave her the truth.
“You’re wary of this life,” I said quietly. “I understand that. I would be too, if I were you. But I don’t want you building your understanding of it out of headlines, fear, and whatever your imagination does when left unsupervised.”
That got the faintest shift from her.
“I want you to see what it actually is,” I went on. “Not the façade. Not the version I could package for you. The real thing. My family. My home. The people at the center of it.”
She looked down at her cup, then back at me. “That’s a lot to ask.”
“I know.”
“What exactly would I be doing there?”
“Meeting the people who made me who I am,” I said. “Seeing the part of my life I’ve spent too long explaining badly.”
Her mouth tightened, not in anger but uncertainty. “And if I hate it?”
“Then you hate it.” I held her gaze. “And I bring you right back here, or straight to your sister, or wherever you want to go. No pressure. I’m not asking you to promise me anything by getting on that plane.”
She was quiet for long enough that I felt the possibility of losing the moment.
“Emily,” I said more gently, “if you’re going to decide whether there’s a place for you in my life, then you deserve to see the truth of it for yourself.”
Something in her expression softened at that, though the doubt remained.
“What if they don’t like me?”
I almost smiled. That, at least, was a fear I knew how to answer.
“They will.”
She gave me a look. “You’re very confident.”
“I’m an excellent judge of character.”
“And deeply unbiased, I’m sure.”
“Entirely.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, but she still hesitated.
